THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1)

by Dean, Warren

  Having disassociated herself from the generals as much as possible, she spent more and more time in the company of Hans and his fellow scientists. She found the lack of military inflexibility refreshing; the scientists simply did what was required when it was required. There was no discernible chain of command among them, although they deferred to Hans whenever a serious difficulty arose.

  Initially, she found him irritating. He spoke incessantly, to anyone and everyone, dominating every conversation. At first, when he spoke to her, she didn't respond at all. It was a tactic which shut up most people. Hans didn't seem to notice, in fact, he sought her out and spoke to her more often than anyone else. Eventually, she became curious enough to ask him why.

  "You don't distract me with gibberish," was his reply.

  It dawned on her that he was someone who needed to speak to think. It didn't matter whether the person he was conversing with said anything. Weirdly, she was the perfect foil for him.

  Rather unwittingly, she learned a great deal about the mechanics of the star drive from his lengthy monologues. After a while, she was even able to offer small contributions to the conversation. Most of them were haughtily ignored but, on occasion, he would take note of one of her observations and take it into consideration.

  For two months after the departure of the Faerie Folk, the development of the star drive ran according to the blueprint mapped out by Analyst Ko. Then, a few gremlins began to creep in. Hans and his team were able to resolve the glitches as they arose, but more and more inconsistencies manifested themselves. The whole programme no longer ran smoothly and Hans became moody. His usually cheerful monologues became punctuated with long periods of silence and some days he was downright curt. Katya's natural reticence didn't help, and soon they were avoiding each other.

  Inevitably, the original target date for bringing the star drive online was put back by two weeks, then four. When the four weeks were up, the astrophysicists found themselves no closer to a working star drive. This did not please Generals Armitage and Chang, who responded by heaping pressure on Hans and Harry Hasper.

  When Katya received the voice message from Hans, she hadn't seen him for more than a week. "I need to speak with you in the tech-centre," was all it said. The tech-centre was where the development of the star drive was taking place.

  Irritated by the abrupt tone of the message, she contemplated ignoring it and going to sleep. Instead, she rolled out of the bunk and straightened her uniform. The reason for her discontent, she suddenly realised, was that she desperately wanted the star drive project to succeed. If it did not, many years of effort, study and sacrifice would be wasted. And, however irritating he might be, Hans was the key to the whole thing.

  It was late, at least according to the artificial moontime imposed by General Armitage, and the corridors were deserted. So was the tech-centre, except for the dark-haired German, who sat slumped in front of a bank of screens. Most of the lights and other screens in the room had been switched off, leaving him sitting in the gloom.

  He spoke brusquely without looking round. "So you don't like talking with me anymore?"

  Ordinarily, she would respond to such a rude greeting by turning on her heel and walking out, but the strain in his voice made her look more closely at him. He was dishevelled, his hair overlong and unkempt. When he looked round at her she could see dark rings under his eyes and unshaved stubble on his chin. She experienced another flash of insight into his personality. He needed help but did not know how to ask for it. He had probably never needed help before.

  "How long have you been working in here?"

  He looked at her blankly. He had obviously lost track.

  "I want to show you something." He turned back to the screens and gestured to one on his left. "This is the schedule left by the Faerie Folk. According to this, we should have been ready to bring the star drive online by now."

  He tapped at a touchpad in front of him and the schedule changed, showing a completion date in a month's time. "As you know, we have encountered a growing number of problems with the blueprint. This is the adjusted schedule taking into account the difficulties we have already encountered."

  "So, it will take another month?"

  He looked at her wearily. "Only if we have no further problems. The thing is that, whenever we resolve a glitch, another two or three appear. I think it is because every time we implement one of our solutions, it takes us another step away from the blueprint. It is causing the rate at which the glitches are occurring to increase exponentially." He tapped away again. "If I calculate a progression based on the rate so far..."

  She watched the schedule change rapidly, resulting in a completion date in eight years' time. He was silent for a moment. "And this is only if the rate remains constant and we are able to continue to find solutions. If the rate continues to increase or we run into a problem we can't solve..." He shrugged his shoulders and slumped even further into his chair.

  She scowled. "Then it is not something that can be achieved with our current resources. The parameters of the project have changed. The delegations must get more people and more hardware up here."

  Hans didn't move. "I have thought about that."

  "You don't think it is the solution?"

  "I know it isn't. Yes, bringing in large teams of scientists and computer programmers will enable us to resolve glitches faster. But that will just compound the problem. The faster we resolve the glitches the more glitches will appear. The problem will snowball at a faster and faster rate."

  "Are you sure about this, Hans? Have you spoken to the other delegation commanders?"

  "Not Armitage and Chang. They would not understand and I shudder to think what they would decide to do. I have debated it with Harry. He argues as you do; that we can do nothing but continue to resolve the glitches and trust that the blueprint itself is not flawed."

  "Do you think it is?"

  "Yes."

  She came forward and sat in a chair alongside his.

  "What do you think has gone wrong?"

  "They built these glitches into the blueprint."

  "Who did?"

  "The Faerie Folk; I have had my suspicions for some time. Now, I am sure."

  "Are you saying that the Faerie Folk deliberately sabotaged the blueprint so that we would not be able to bring the star drive online?"

  "Yes, I am."

  Katya began to wonder whether Hans was so tired that he was becoming irrational.

  "Why would they do that?"

  "I don't know. There are many possible reasons. Perhaps they are challenging us to make sure that we have the right problem-solving skills before we venture into space. Or perhaps they want to delay us from travelling in space until we are ready in some way we are not yet aware of. Or perhaps they do not want us to achieve space travel at all; or not in the time frame we expected."

  Katya scowled. "Hans, this doesn't make sense. The Faerie Folk chose to come to Earth. They demonstrated beyond doubt that they are far more advanced than we are. They gave us valuable technology and asked very little in return. They did not harm us or threaten to harm us in any way. When they left, they left as peaceably as they arrived. Why would they lie about giving us the ability to travel in space? If it is a lie, they have gone to a great deal of effort to make us believe it. Have you seen their star charts? They have shown us that there is more to the universe than we thought. If they don't want us to travel in space, why give us all of this information? Why give us a flawed version of the star drive? What purpose does it serve for them to engineer such an elaborate charade?"

  Instead of becoming annoyed, which he had been too often lately, he smiled faintly. "Ah, this is what I have missed; someone who is not afraid to disagree with me."

  Katya's scowl showed no signs of diminishing. "You don't need me to tell you this. It is simple logic and you are an intelligent man. Or so I thought; I am beginning to wonder."

  He shrugged. "I don't know the answers to your questions, b
ut it is possible that the Faerie Folk came here for a reason we don't know about and that the star drive is just a diversion."

  "A diversion?"

  "Diverting our attention away from what is really going on."

  "And what is that?"

  "I don't know that either. I am a scientist; I must have data before I can formulate a theory. All I know is that the data I have so far leads me to believe that the star drive blueprint left behind by the Faerie Folk is fundamentally flawed."

  Katya tried hard to adopt a more patient tone. But it was late, and she was tired, and patience was not one of her virtues. "I still don't understand it, Hans. What makes you think this is so?"

  He pushed his hair back from his forehead. "When it became clear to me that there was a pattern to the glitches, I went back to the very first one. I tried to find another way of resolving it. I thought that perhaps our first solution was wrong and that it was the cause of the inconsistencies that followed. But there is no other solution to the first one; I am sure of it. So I tried the second one and came up with the same result. And the third, and so on. It is as if each glitch is designed to have only one solution.

  "By following the blueprint, we are like rats in a maze. At every juncture there is only one correct way to turn, so we have to turn that way. We have to follow the path set for us."

  "Well, perhaps we shouldn't continue to follow this path. Can't we abandon the blueprint and find our own solution?"

  "That is exactly what I have been thinking. I saw the star drive in action on my visits to Emissary. I understand how it works. The challenge that faces us is to bridge the gap between our existing technology and the technology that is needed to support the star drive. That is what the Faerie Folk's blueprint was supposed to achieve. We have already assimilated a great deal of it, which has narrowed the gap significantly. If their blueprint has become unreliable, then the only thing which makes sense is to abandon it and find another way to bridge the gap."

  "Is that possible?"

  He paused. "Anything is possible. But first we have to convince the delegations to agree to abandon the blueprint. It is going to take more persuasive ability than you or I have to get through to the likes of Armitage and Chang. And your government is not exactly well known for being receptive to new ideas either.

  "No offence intended," he added as an afterthought.

  "None taken," she replied.

  "Harry will be easier to convince, but he has already warned me that the new British prime minister is unlikely to have the star drive high on his list of priorities. The social upheaval caused by the Faerie Blood craze has stolen our thunder."

  They were both silent for a few moments.

  "Then there is the small matter of conceiving alternative systems which will achieve what the blueprint calls for. We don't even know where to start because it is not clear how much of the blueprint is flawed."

  "Start at the other end of the bridge," she said.

  He looked at her and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Reverse engineering? It is a good idea, but Emissary is gone. We don't have a working star drive to start with."

  "Yes, but you have the Faerie Folk's design. Build one and install it on Earthworm. Then use what you remember of Emissary's star drive to replicate the technology needed to make it work. Others can continue extracting the usable technology from the Faerie Folk's blueprint. Hopefully your work and theirs will meet in the middle. It won't be necessary to abandon the blueprint, which should keep the generals at bay for a while, and it will give you time to make genuine progress."

  He sat staring silently into the middle distance for so long she began to think he had fallen asleep. Then he looked at her and she saw a glint in his eyes which hadn't been there for weeks. "Us," he said, "It will give us time."

  "What do you mean, us?"

  "I mean you and me. You are now on my team and I want you at every one of my sessions."

  "I am no astrophysicist, Hans. I will just get in your way."

  "No, you will be there to keep us focussed and to stop the generals from interfering. And when the time comes, you will get Northern Europe's backing as Earthworm's first pilot."

  He leapt off his chair and began flipping on lights and booting-up various computer systems. "The first thing I need to do is review my notes and drawings of Emissary's star drive. Then I'll get the team in to start designing components. I don't have a photographic memory, but fortunately I don't need one. I am intelligent enough to fill in the blanks intuitively. It will be more difficult to replicate systems I didn't get the chance to examine. However my examinations were thorough, so hopefully there won't be many of those. Call up the Faerie Folk's star drive specifications, will you? Use that terminal over there... where are you going?"

  "Hans, I have been working for sixteen hours. I am too tired for this now. Everyone else on the base is fast asleep and I am going to join them."

  She stopped at the hatchway and turned to tell him to get some sleep too, but he had already forgotten she was there.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Winston Parke put on his dressing gown and slippers. Although it was almost summer, there was no respite yet from the cold weather and he hated shivering his way through breakfast.

  Connie would have tea and Melba toast ready, and when he went downstairs, she would cook him an egg with bacon and sausages. She did this for him every morning without fail and he wondered how she would cope from tomorrow, when a cook would be on duty at all times. He sincerely hoped that she wouldn't insist on continuing to make his breakfast.

  It was strange to think that this was the last day in their home of thirty-three years. They had moved into number 7 Honeydew Road, Clapham, two weeks after their wedding and had raised three children there. The children had all grown up and left to make their own way in life, and the house now felt a little empty. Connie really wanted to stay, he knew, although she kept saying that she was happy to move.

  It was very British to live in the same house all one's life, he mused while shaving. But when duty called, personal preferences had to be put aside and new challenges embraced. That was very British too. He tied his dressing gown closed and walked gingerly down the narrow wooden staircase, his knees creaking and popping almost as much as the stairs themselves.

  He turned the corner into the dining-room and saw that Connie had made a special effort today. There were flowers on the table and she had set out the fine china tea-set they had received as a wedding gift all those years ago. She had even switched on the little electric fire to warm up the room for him.

  He skirted a stack of half-full packing crates and sat down in his usual chair. There would be no time to dawdle at breakfast today; the movers would be arriving in about an hour to finish the packing before taking their belongings to the new house. The furniture would be staying, of course, as they wouldn't be needing it.

  He poured a cup of tea and buttered a piece of toast, listening to Connie potter around in the kitchen. He had offered to hire a char to help her many times, but she always refused. At the new house she would have a whole army of servants and he couldn't help but be concerned about how she would react to them.

  "What time will the car be here for you, dear?" she called from the kitchen.

  "The usual time. Are you sure you won't come with me this morning? You really don't need to be here to supervise the movers, you know."

  She bustled out of the kitchen with a hot plate of food clutched in a faded oven glove. She placed it in front of him and pulled the salt cellar nearer so that he could reach it. "No thank you, I have a few odds and sods I would like to pack myself. I can't have those ham-fisted clods breaking our best china." She went back into the kitchen to fetch her own breakfast, a grim ensemble of muesli, yoghurt and porridge. She sat down and he poured her a cup of tea.

  After breakfast he went back upstairs to get dressed. He had been accustomed to help her clear the table, but there was no time for that these days. The car arrived promptl
y at seven-thirty and Connie met him at the front door with his hat and coat.

  "It looks like rain again, I'm afraid," she said.

  He shrugged on the coat and kissed her on the cheek. "It won't matter; I'll be too busy to notice. Let me know when you're ready and I'll send the car for you. There is going to be some sort of reception to welcome us this evening, I hope you don't mind."

  "I'll have to get used to that sort of thing, I suppose."

  He strode out of the door and down the garden path towards the waiting car. A specialist protection officer met him at the gate and opened the back door for him. It was a cold, overcast morning and he was thankful to settle into the warm interior. The officer closed the door and hopped into the front passenger seat. They set off northwards along Kings Avenue.

  As they approached Vauxhall Bridge the traffic slowed to a standstill. There seemed to be some commotion ahead and a number of police cars came past in the emergency lane. He pressed the touchscreen set into the door beside him and the soundproof panel between him and the driver slid downwards. "What's happening, Bill?"

  "It's those anti-Faerie Blood nutters, er... protesters, sir. Apparently they have blocked the bridge."

  Winston activated the screen set into the back of the driver's seat and called up BBC News on his 'link. The channel showed that the middle of the bridge had been barricaded with two large trucks. The trucks had been turned side-on within both lanes of traffic and their tyres slashed. According to the reporter on the scene, this was hampering the efforts of the police to clear the obstruction. The situation was exacerbated by the human chain of protesters who had tied themselves together and spread across the road in front of the trucks. Some of them held large placards denouncing Faerie Blood as unnatural, an abomination and the work of the devil.

  The officer, forgetting that the soundproof screen was down, suggested to the driver that the protesters be thrown into the Thames. "If they want to be mortal, let's help them along, eh?"